Always

My mom just celebrated her 80th birthday in January. My dad, who hates anything to do with surprises, decided to throw her a surprise birthday bash. He enlisted as many friends and of course, family as he could to pull off this coup. The grandchildren and I, along with my brother, were enlisted to distract her for the day, while he ran around incognito preparing for the fete.

We took my mom out to lunch and tried to convince her to come out to the llama farm. But it was cold and foggy and my mom is not exactly the earthy type. When we came back later, she was fuming. My dad had not been home all day and she was fit to be tied. She was frustrated that on her birthday, she was not getting the attention she so truly deserved. He had told my brother to bring her downtown but she wanted him to come home and made no bones about it.

Surprisingly the grandkids, especially my precocious five year old granddaughter, kept mum about great-grandpa's secret plans. We tried calming her down but as we made our goodbyes and headed over to the party, her Latin roots were on fire.

The party went off without a hitch. My granddaughter played Happy Birthday for the crowd of 40 plus people as my mom entered the darkened room and we yelled surprise! She was upset with me for letting her come down there without her lipstick. But she was in heaven, surrounded by loved ones who congratulated her on the milestone and patted my dad on the back for pulling it off.

My mother is not one to be out done. So the story does not end there. Mom decides to "get even" though I have questioned the sentiment here, since my dad was really doing a nice thing. She enlisted a friend to hold a sweetheart luncheon for a few close friends. This was the plausible ruse to get my father out of the house and to his Valentine surprise or "revenge is a dish best served cold" party.

She was a bit disappointed because she couldn't find some of the old songs from their courtship days. I told her to give me the names and I would download them in itunes. She was at once shocked and delighted. Because, Always, I'm in the Mood For Love were a few of the favored selections, which I found quickly and decided that Perry Como and old Blue Eyes were probably the best crooners. I also found a great Nat King Cole tune, The Very Thought Of You. But the selection would not be complete, I told her, without the Marine Corps Hymn.

My father a retired Marine, plays the song every time he walks by a piano. He has insisted that all his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren learn the piece as standard repertoire (a fancy word for music). It seemed appropriate to close this timeless musical love affair with a stand at attention semper fi.

My dad was duly surprised and he, too, thought it best to blame me for his lack of awareness in the planning stages. The role of the oldest daughter, I suppose. But for all their protests, this is a testimony to true love. There are no fonder memories for me than my dad coming home from work and whirling my mom around the kitchen floor in an awkward attempt at the waltz. Trust me, if there is one thing my father and I have in common - we can't dance! But his endearing way of taking her into his arms and my mom gracefully making him look good doing so, are moments from my childhood that I truly treasure.

Valentines Day may be scoffed as a day for florists and chocolate makers to sell their wares, but for me it is a time to honor those who have stood the test of time, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, through kids, diapers, runny noses, fender benders, lost jobs, new jobs, moving, empty nests and aging bodies. That is what it means to be in love and young people got nothing on my Fred Astaire Dad and my Ginger Rogers Mom.

Loves to Play In the Dirt

It is no secret that I love to play in the dirt. From the moment I made my first mud pie, complete with strips of grass and little pebbles - I am all about texture, I have been engaged in a love affair with the earth. 

Living in Oregon, I am often frustrated with Mother Nature conspiring to block my muse. Muddy days leave a dirt afficionado longing for dirty fingernails and the cool earth crumbling between them. But I have found the answer to dirty hands and Mother Nature working in harmony. 

Kiko Denzer, the author of Dig Your Hands In The Dirt! A Manual For Making Art Out Of Earth, says he re-discovered mud about ten years ago. This 2nd edition shows the range of earth-work by artist-builders, but its true value is in letting mud pie makers like myself expand our horizons and pursue more earthly pleasures with no regrets. 

"...just about anything works, and if it doesn't, it lets you know so you can try something else." Kiko says. The book is filled with colorful photographs of work done by students at Woodburn High School in Portland, OR and in communities around the world. Artful pieces that display the energy and creativity that happens when you mix clay and water - the essence of mud.

With the addition of a few other earthly materials, straw, baling twine, leaves ad twigs, designs can be created for mosaic tiles, columns and even bird houses. The book show details for large and small scale projects, all within the grasp of mud makers and dirt players. From a mud village in Germany, the book chronicles the work of teachers, activists, gardeners, artists, and folks wanting a better life. Art becomes a practical activity.

Along with the how to process, Kiko outlines design and patterns, mud recipes, tips and tricks for creating mud masterpieces that stand the test of time. Although some projects, like the Clay Village Project in Berlin's Britzer Garden, may be out of reach for your backyard, there are many projects that are well within your muddy grasp. 

Remember stomping through mud puddles in absolute bliss, only to have your mom burst your puddle with talk of how would she ever get your clothes clean? This book celebrates the squishing of mud between the toes as the human Sunbeam mixer for making the perfect mud batter. Clear instructions on preparing as well as clean-up would make any mama proud, and probably a willing participant. 

I can't wait to make some mud tiles for the walk way by the pond. My granddaughter is a perfect accomplice, since our Easy Bake Oven disaster. Even though we can't eat it, we have decided we are much better at playing in the dirt and making artful recipes to enjoy for a lifetime. Sharpening up my popsicle stick to write "That's What A Wise Grandma Would Do" on my tile.  

Pay It Forward

The heart is physically nothing more than a big muscle, often times thicker than our heads. It never ceases to amaze me how cruel people can be to each other. On the other hand I can be just as amazed at their generosity, too.

Emily Douglas, now a 26 year old grad student, started a charity called "Grandma's Gifts" when she was 11 years old. Her charity has grown to donations of goods and services to the tune of $12 million for families in Appalachia. Although she has drawn a paycheck she says, "In school, in work, in everything I do, it's helped me."

Staci Wright, age 16 of Eugene, OR and Brandi Berger, age 15 of Albany, OR designed athletic shoes as part of a Nike event to raise money for Doernbechers Children's Hospital, in Portland, OR. Both girls were former patients and wanted to give back to the hospital that took care of them while they battled life threatening illness. "It's for my friends and family. Through all the hard times, they were there for me." said Staci.  

Early giving can make altruism a regular part of life, says Jan Cady, director of philanthropy at Children's Hospital of Boston. "It is like building muscle memory in school age kids that will last a lifetime," she says.

Parents, grandparents, teachers, ministers are on the front lines of seeing the need within the community and have the resources to connect children with the service. Psychology professor, Wendy Grolncik at Clark University, MA, suggests talking with your children about what would be meaningful rather than jumping to the conclusion they want to be involved. The more involved a child is choosing the type of giving, the more they'll learn from the experience. 

Involve your grandchildren and start a random act of kindness of your own, pay it forward to someone in your neighborhood and lend a helping hand. Need more inspiration? Go to www.grandmasgifts.org, www.idealist.org. www.generationcures.org, or any local food bank, Red Cross. Helping can be as simple as getting a haircut at www.locksoflove.org.

That's what a wise Grandma would do.

Play Ball!

I make no bones about it. I am a baseball fanatic. To me, baseball is a religion. Everything you need to know in life to succeed may be taught in Kindergarten but out on the field is where the real training begins.

We would play for hours on a sand lot down the street from our house. It was our meeting place, our chat room, centered around four bases made of anything we could find from rocks to old tires. It was baseball in its purest form. Our mitts were old and worn, our bats were Louisville sluggers and our love for the game kept us out until it was too dark to see.

I played catcher by trade. To me, the catcher was the best seat in the house. You could see the entire field from this position. Every player in field and out field depends on the catcher to keep tabs on the game. The catcher needs to know both sides of the game, the players on the field and the ones in the dugout who plan on putting the ball into play.

Today, I watch the game with a bit of nostalgia for the sand lot days. We had our major league heroes - Sandy Koufax, Johnny Bench (my particular favorite), Duke Snyder, Don Drysdale, Yogi Berra. But the drama of the sand lot games was more than imitating your favs. It was the smells and sounds of the game up close and personal. It was the way you felt at the end of a good game, win or lose, you were tired but invigorated at the same time.

Where I live in Eugene, OR, we have the fantastic privilege of a minor league team and stadium, Civic Stadium. The short season games bring the fans into the action with seating under ten bucks, the vendors yelling for peanuts and popcorn and the old time signs along the outfield wall. The players are the raw material with hopes and dreams of making it to the bigs and every little kid in the house is looking for their autograph. It's is what Little Leaguers dream of and what baseball used to be about before it became a multimillion dollar industry.

Unfortunately, money talks louder than nostalgia. Our small ball park is in jeopardy. Our situation is not unique. Budget cuts have a way of working their way into the fabric of what is good about a community. Ball parks around the country from Little League and minor league ballparks are finding it impossible to keep up maintenance on these hollowed grounds. We need to step up and preserve what is truly an American icon - Baseball!

Oddly enough, if you watch the Super Bowl you will see an opportunity to put on a mitt and play ball to make a difference. Kellogg's is taking a step to keep ball parks, like Civic Stadium, from disappearing from our children's landscape. They have initiated a call to action for a national field renovation program called "Plant A Seed". 

The campaign will renovate over 50 fields across the US to provide better fields and make them into more central community meeting places - chat rooms for families. Check out this Super Bowl ad and nominate your community field for this extraordinary project. 

That's what a wise catcher would do.

Volunteers Make It Happen!

I must admit that one of my favorite jobs doesn't involve a paycheck. I am a Meals on Wheels Volunteer. Once a week I have the privilege of delivering hot meals to seniors in my neighborhood. And an added bonus are my partners, Navigator Orville Smith and my Back Seat Driver and co-pilot is my granddaughter. She also happens to be the Navigator's Great Granddaughter. We are three generations in one blue van, bringing food and a few smiles and giggles to about 20 people on our weekly route.

One thing about this job, everybody is happy to see you. I think my granddaughter likes to go because the seniors usually give her a piece of candy or a cookie. Orville, is my 90 year old father in law. He has Alzheimer's. It is odd the things he remembers and even stranger the things he does not. 

We deliver to a woman who has an apple orchard. He loves to pick apples when we visit her and she is so happy that someone enjoys the apples. When we are getting close to her house, he always says "Don't forget to stop and get some apples." It is one of his favorite things to do, second only to going out for lunch afterwards. He knows the Taco Time we go to and reminds me when and where to turn. But ask him who I am and he will tell you "that girl". He hasn't remembered my name in over a year. 

There are very few moments in life when we have the opportunity to change the world around us for the better. Volunteer. It is worth every penny! That's What A Wise Grandma Would Do.

Nothing Easy About It

As I was drinking my coffee early this morning, my granddaughter called. "Can you come over and bake something with me in my Easy Bake oven?" she wanted to know. Couldn't think of a good reason why not, since I was the one who gave it to her for Christmas.

She and I love to bake cookies, so it seemed like the perfect gift. I have fond memories of my Easy Bake oven as a child. I was so proud of the little cakes and cookies that I forced upon my poor father. He always ate them graciously and my mother to this day has me bake the birthday cakes in the family. 

There is a long story about the 100 watt light bulb that the manufacturers did not include in this toy oven. But to keep a long story short, we assembled the oven and after 30 minutes of tearing the house apart to find the little baking pans she had lost, we set about to bake a chocolate cake. 

The batter was dry and crumbly. Not at all like a batter. We added a little more water until the consistency seemed right. We struggled a bit with the long u-shaped handle to slip the cake pan inside the oven. Patiently, we set the timer and played a game while we waited the seven long minutes prescribed on the box.

Ding! Time's up and in great anticipation of what was about to slide out of the oven, we had camera in hand. To our disappointment, the result of the morning's labor was nothing more than a wad of goo. "Is this right?" my granddaughter asked. Even her limited culinary expertise knew this was not even close to right.

We popped it in the oven again and after another seven minutes, we had a slightly more formed wad of goo. We decided to call it goo cake and opened the frosting mix and sprinkles to add something festive to our new concoction. The watery frosting melded with the goo and the sprinkles added a bit of sparkle to the extraordinary and barely palatable fiasco.

I am tempted to call the Easy Bake people and ask them what happened. I remember this toy as being truly easy and it actually baked. Now I am beginning to wonder if my gracious father thought my treats were just a step up from my early mud pie faze. 

Mother Knows Best!

Go Green! Save the Planet! Global Warming! The warnings are days late and several dollars short. My mother was WAY ahead of the times because she was recycling before Webster made it an official word in the dictionary.

As the oldest of seven children, I can say with all sincerity that my mother taught us not only the value of a dollar but how to stretch the greenback until you could see through it. We learned to wash tin foil, rinse plastic bags, save twist ties and bread bag clips.

 

We saved every empty jar or plastic container. I never knew that Tupperware was an actual brand name. I thought it was a plastic container - any plastic container.

 

Recycling is in my blood. It is my nature and nurture that I find recycling to be not only an art but in these tough economic times, a matter of necessity. We should all make a firm new year resolution to return to the three Rs - reduce, reuse and recycle. BYOB - bring your own bag to the grocery store and reduce your carbon footprint a toe at a time.

 

It is cutting edge these days to be green. My 80 year old mother is green from head to toe and great grandkids are learning to follow in her giant footsteps for humankind and good old Mother Earth, because that is what a wise grandma would do.